


dogfish

by iphigenias



Series: season 7 fix-it fics [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Reunion, Season 7 AU, Unbury Your Gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15656826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iphigenias/pseuds/iphigenias
Summary: “I would leave the universe defenceless and the Galra undefeated if it meant saving Takashi from everything he’s gone through—if it meant keeping him here, keeping him off the Kerberos mission, even if that meant that he would never speak to me again because of it—because he’d be safe. And he might not be happy, but he’d behere.” Adam takes a deep, shuddering breath and then lets it out all at once. He looks back at Sam. “Does that make me a bad person?”“Nothing could make you a bad person, Adam,” Sam replies, holding his gaze. “It just makes you human.”*Or, the season 7 rewrite in which Adam survives, among other improvements.





	dogfish

**Author's Note:**

> literally fuck that season 7 am i right
> 
> anyway this is basically an au from that first flashback episode with sam on earth. the main divergent point is that ADAM DOESN'T DIE, but i fixed up a few other things i had problems with - see end notes for spoilery details. also all the science in this is probably wrong as is all of the dialogue - the only thing i lifted verbatim from the show was shiro's speech at the end, because i literally could not bring myself to rewatch the episodes to make the dialogue consistent. i do what i want
> 
> title and fragments within the fic are from mary oliver's poem 'dogfish'
> 
> thanks to marnie for being my hype woman

*

 _I wanted_  
_to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know,_  
_whoever I was, I was_

_alive  
for a little while._

*

When Sam wakes, the first thing he does is see Colleen. She is as beautiful as the day they met, even more radiant than every memory Sam had desperately clung to in his years as a Galra prisoner. Katie and Matt remain in space, doing God knows what—and God only knows if they’re still alive, though Sam can’t allow himself to think about that for more than a second—but being here with Colleen, being _home_ —it’s enough to quell some of the darkness that had settled over his heart ever since they were captured on Kerberos.

The second thing Sam does is ask to see Adam.

He’s a ranked officer now, with more than enough security clearance for Sam to tell him everything—but Sanda is hesitant. “His relationship with Officer Shirogane could put our mission in jeopardy,” she says. “I don’t want him running to the press in a bid to clear Shirogane’s name.” From the pilot error that never happened, she doesn’t say, but Sam understands her well enough.

“Adam’s relationship with Shiro is the reason he _has_ to know,” he argues. “Keeping him in the dark at this point would just be cruel.” Sanda presses her lips together but says nothing further, and though this is a small victory, Sam savours it all the same.

Adam still has the same office as before Kerberos. Sam remembers well wandering the Garrison halls, searching for his pilot to prep for the mission, and inevitably always finding him either in the dorm he shared with Adam, or here in his fiancé’s office, lounging in the armchair by the door while Adam tried and failed to do paperwork, sitting in the chair opposite Adam’s desk to do his own paperwork despite the perfectly good and empty office of his own down the hall, or, once, when Sam had walked into the room unannounced without realising that the blinds had been shut for a _reason_ —

Well. It was embarrassing for all three of them, to say the least. Sam has never seen Shiro so red in the face, before or since.

Adam’s door is ajar by about an inch when Sam reaches it. The bronze nameplate, sitting on the door at eye level, is smudged with fingerprints when seen at a certain angle. Shiro used to wipe it down with his sleeve whenever he would notice, Sam remembers. It looks like Adam hasn’t done it since.

Sam knocks, because he’s long learned his lesson about barging into this room without warning. “Come in,” calls a tired-sounding voice Sam hasn’t heard in two years—though when he pushes open the door and steps through, it seems as if no time has passed at all. The room is the exact same, from the layout of the furniture down to the crooked officer’s certificate framed on the wall behind the desk. Adam, too, is comfortingly familiar—hunched over his paperwork in a way that demanded a gentle reprimand for posture, though without Shiro around to give one it seemed the slouch had only gotten worse since Sam had last witnessed it. Adam doesn’t look up from his work for a few moments, and Sam has to call his name, softly, to capture his attention.

Adam looks up. Drops his pen. Stands so abruptly that the chair he pushes back topples sideways to the floor. “Sam?” he says, barely louder than a whisper, and the next minute Adam has crossed the room to collapse in Sam’s arms, boneless, shaking with quiet sobs Sam pretends not to notice.

“I thought you were dead,” Adam says when he straightens up out of the embrace. Sam gives him a moment to adjust his glasses and surreptitiously wipe his eyes before meeting his gaze. “We all thought you were—you and Matt and—” Adam takes a shuddering breath. “Takashi. Is he—is he—”

Sam grabs Adam’s hands in his own and gives them a firm squeeze. “He’s alive,” he says. “Alive and safe, last I saw of him.”

“Oh—thank _God_.” Adam collapses into the armchair by the door. “I thought—I thought the last thing I ever said to him—I never thought I’d see him again.” Adam glances back up at Sam. “Where is he? What happened on Kerberos?”

“It’s a long story,” Sam says with a grimace.

Adam stands, pulls the chair opposite his desk over by his own seat, and indicates for Sam to sit. “I’ve got time if you have,” he says.

Sam smiles and takes the seat. “First thing you need to know is that there was no pilot error in the first place…”

The story is long, and takes the better part of two hours for Sam to tell it. Adam is mostly quiet throughout, only really asking questions about Shiro.

“They gave him a new arm? Does that mean they experimented on him?”

“Was he in bad shape when you saw him? Did he have any pain that he spoke of?”

Sam answers as best he can and when he finishes talking, ending with launching the Altean pod from the Castle of Lions, the two of them fall into silence. It’s a lot to process—Sam doesn’t blame Adam for taking a moment.

“But Takashi—he seemed happy?” Adam finally asks, closing his eyes briefly, as if steeling himself for the answer, before opening them to look at Sam.

“I don’t know if happy is the right word,” Sam says carefully. “But he seemed—whole. At peace, I guess. He’s fighting for a good cause, and that’s—that’s always what mattered to him.”

Adam nods and presses his lips together. Sam knows that’s his cue. He leaves Adam’s office with a handshake that turns into a brief embrace, promising to check in on him tomorrow and keep Adam in the loop with any developments about the Garrison’s plan for defence against the Galra. When he shuts the door behind him, Sam can’t help but glance back through the half-open blinds—Adam is collapsed in the armchair, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, and his shoulders are shaking.

Sam turns away, and quietly returns to Colleen.

*

The next few months are a blur of planning and productivity. Sam convinces Iverson and Sanda to get Adam on board with the MFE development, and a few weeks into the Atlas project Sam requests Adam help with that too. They have a team broadcast to Voltron twice a day, though Sam always tries to send it himself, but have no luck getting a response. Once, Sam is late to the radio room, but stops just outside the door when he hears someone already speaking into the transmitter.

“This is Officer Wakim of the Galaxy Garrison on Earth, broadcasting to the paladins of Voltron. Do you copy?”

Silence. Sam leans back against the wall and listens, though he knows he shouldn’t.

“Paladins of Voltron, do you copy? This is the Galaxy Garrison, requesting contact.”

Silence. Sam hears Adam let out a shaky breath.

“Takashi,” Adam says next, and his voice is quiet. “It’s Adam. Please—please respond. I need to know you’re okay. I need to hear from you, from Voltron, I need—”

Static. Silence. Adam heaves out a sob as Sam scrambles to get out of earshot. This isn’t something he needs to hear.

Adam doesn’t broadcast any more transmissions after that.

*

The Galra arrive within minutes of Matt’s communication.

Sam curses at himself internally as he races to the Garrison command centre. Hindsight is 20/20, but he really should have seen this coming. He knows the Galra better than anyone on this planet, and he should’ve guessed that if Voltron wasn’t receiving their broadcasts, someone else had to be—though it’s far too late for regret now.

Sanda and Iverson are already there when Sam rushes into the room. Garrison tech officers are stationed at their computers, coordinating weaponry and defence stratagems and who knows what else in every effort to keep this base secure. But there’s a face missing—Sam does a quick scan of the room and comes up blank.

“Admiral, where’s Adam?”

“Officer Wakim is preparing to lead the assault on the hostiles,” Sanda responds. “His squadron are on standby.”

“What?” Sam looks to Iverson, who is scowling. “If you send those jets out there your men will die. They’re no match for Galra tech! I _told_ you this from the start!”

Sanda meets his gaze, her own eyes harsh and cold. “Launch base defences according to protocol, Commander.”

“No!” Sam’s heart is in his throat. He can’t let Sanda send Adam and the other pilots to their deaths for nothing. “If anything, send the MFEs! They’re the only jets with the capacity to take Galra fire!”

“Those pilots are cadets,” Sanda barks. “I will not send cadets into battle.”

“Your squadron won’t stand a chance!”

“Launch base defences according to protocol,” Sanda growls. “That is an _order_ , Commander.”

“No!” Sam knocks Iverson out of the way and presses the communicator button himself. “Black Squadron, this is Sam Holt. Do not engage those ships, I repeat, _do not engage_.”

Iverson makes no move to contest Sam’s words—indeed, he looks relieved that the burden of giving bad orders has been lifted from his shoulders. “When we are through with this I will court martial you both,” Sanda says furiously, when Iverson remains unresponsive under her glare. “Black Squadron, this is Admiral Sanda. Launch base defences according to protocol at once!”

“If you do you’ll die!” Sam yells. “Your jets will be destroyed by the Galra in a heartbeat. _Do not engage_!”

There is silence from the other end of the communicator for a moment, and then— “This is Officer Wakim, Black Squadron leader. With all due respect Admiral… I’m listening to Sam on this one. Squad, stand down.”

“I will strip each and every one of you of your rank!” Sanda yells.

“I’d rather be a cadet again than dead, Admiral,” Adam responds, and Sam could almost laugh in relief. “This is Black Squadron leader, over and out.” The communicator shuts off into static. Sanda turns on her heel to send Sam a murderous glare.

“You! How dare you!”

“Send out the MFEs, Admiral,” Sam replies calmly. “They can test the range and impact of the Galra cruiser’s weaponry and report back to us without casualties. The rest of the Garrison is secure inside the particle barrier—and you’ve just saved ten of your finest pilots from certain death so they may live to fight another day. Congratulations.” Without another word Sam exits the command centre, walking on shaky legs to the nearest bathroom where he throws up into the sink. The Galra have invaded Earth, and he may have just sentenced himself to a dishonourable discharge from the Garrison—but if that means Adam and his squadron survive, then Sam will welcome the punishment.

“You kept my son alive, Shiro,” Sam whispers with closed eyes, “And that’s a debt I will never be able to repay. But hopefully this counts for something. Now please, come home. Adam needs you.” Sam opens his eyes to stare at his drawn and haggard face in the mirror. “We all do.”

*

The Garrison is ready for their final stand. Their halls are fuller than Sam can ever remember them being, not only with officers and cadets in uniform but civilians, refugees, and resistance fighters too. It gives Sam hope for the future of Earth—though that hope would be much strengthened by the arrival of Voltron. Sam knows many have given up on the paladins ever arriving to save them, but he hasn’t dismissed them quite yet. Partly due to the fact that he can’t bear the thought of losing Katie—but mostly because he knows Voltron, and he knows they will stop at nothing to help a planet in need.

He just hopes they won’t be too late.

It’s early morning, and Sam leaves Colleen in their room to search for Adam. He finds him on the roof, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, looking up through the particle barrier toward the sky that has been obscured by Galra ships for months now. Sam remembers a time when all you could see from this roof were the stars—he wonders if Adam is remembering that, too.

“I wish I knew where he is,” Adam says after a minute of silence. Sam doesn’t have to ask who the _he_ is. “Matt said Voltron disappeared. But he can’t be dead. Not after everything, he can’t—”

“Voltron is out there,” Sam says, resting a hand on Adam’s arm. “I know it. In here.” With his other hand he presses down on his chest over his heart. Adam looks at him. “I know you do too.”

“I wish I did,” Adam says. “But my heart’s been lying to me for a long time now.” He looks away from Sam, not back up toward the sky, but out across the desert, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses like he’s searching for something. “You know what the last thing I said to him was? _Don’t expect me to be here when you get back_. I was so _angry_ he was going on the mission—I thought he was choosing space over us.”

“And now?”

“Now…” Adam sighs. “I get it. When you’re this close to dying, it’s hard to say no to something that will make you feel alive again.”

“You made him feel alive,” Sam says. “I know you did.”

Adam is quiet for a few moments. “I really thought he was dead, you know?” he finally says. “And I hated myself for so, so long because of it. And then you come home and tell me that he’s not, that he’s alive and out there saving the rest of the universe—and I think, maybe this was meant to happen. And then I hate myself all over again because I would take it all back in a heartbeat, I would leave the universe defenceless and the Galra undefeated if it meant saving Takashi from everything he’s gone through—if it meant keeping him here, keeping him off the Kerberos mission, even if _that_ meant that he would never speak to me again because of it—because he’d be safe. And he might not be happy, but he’d be _here_.” Adam takes a deep, shuddering breath and then lets it out all at once. He looks back at Sam. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“Nothing could make you a bad person, Adam,” Sam replies, holding his gaze. “It just makes you human.”

The roof access door slams open with a bang, making them both jump. A breathless cadet stands in the doorway. “Galra jet… crash landed… just past the city… it’s the paladins!”

Sam and Adam race down the stairs and leave the cadet alone on the roof, panting, her hands on her hips. There is a crowd gathered outside the Garrison that they hurry to meet. Sam finds Colleen, takes her hand in one of his own, and rests the other on Adam’s shoulder. They wait in tense, not-quite-silence as a Garrison truck appears on the horizon, followed closely by another, driving swiftly towards the base. Colleen’s grip is crushing and Sam has a suspicion his hand is going to be bruised tomorrow—but he couldn’t care less, because the trucks have reached the gate, the particle barrier is letting them inside, they’re pulling up just ahead of the crowd and the doors are opening and Katie is there, just as Sam remembers, and then she’s in his arms and the rest of the world goes quiet.

*

 _Also I wanted_  
_to be able to love. And we all know_  
_how that one goes,_  
_don’t we?_

_Slowly_

*

Adam pulls apart from the Holts as they sink to the ground in a tearful embrace. He takes a few, hesitant steps forward towards the other figures emerging from the trucks—two of the MFE cadets, three people with pointed ears and strange markings on their faces, three other cadet-age kids with colour-coordinated armour on that Adam barely has time to glance at because the last figure emerging from the second vehicle is painfully, desperately, achingly familiar despite the new white hair, scar, and missing right arm.

Adam can tell the exact moment Takashi spots him because his face goes slack in surprise. He takes an aborted step forward, hesitating, and Adam vividly remembers the last words they shared together: _Don’t expect me to be here when you get back_. Takashi is a better man than Adam ever was—the pain and the longing is written so clearly on his face and yet he will respect what he thinks is Adam’s decision to the end—Adam has no such qualms, especially since he now knows those words are, and always were, even at the moment they were uttered, empty.

He rushes forward. He has just a moment to see Takashi’s face light up, and though the scar is new that smile is so familiar, before Adam is crashing into him with such force that it would send anyone else tumbling to the ground. But Takashi is _strong_ , and his arm catches Adam around the waist and they only sway a little before Takashi is stranding straight again, holding Adam upright and burying his face into his collar as Adam does the same to him, though the armour is far less forgiving, and it feels like a black hole collapsing in on itself, Adam folding himself into the spaces between Takashi’s ribs and making a home for himself there forever.

When the air he’s breathing through having his face squished into Takashi’s armour becomes stale enough to make him short of breath, he surfaces. Takashi’s eyes are still closed and Adam leans quickly, gently forward to place two gentle kisses on each of his eyelids, feeling them flutter beneath his lips. When he pulls back Takashi opens his eyes. “Hi,” he says softly, and Adam never thought he would hear that voice again. He feels giddy.

“Hi,” he replies back, slightly breathless, tracing a hand down Takashi’s jawline until it comes to rest by his lips. “You’re back.”

Takashi smiles, and the movement brings Adam’s fingers in contact with the corner of his mouth. “I’m back,” he says.

“I waited for you,” Adam whispers. “I know I shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted you to,” Takashi whispers back. “I thought you wouldn’t.”

“I was so mad,” Adam says.

“I know.”

“I thought you cared more about the mission than me.”

“ _Never_.”

Adam traces Takashi’s lips with his index finger, slow and gentle. “I missed you,” he says, quieter even than a whisper, unsure if he even said it out loud. But Takashi smiles when he hears it, so he must have.

“I missed you too. Can you kiss me now?”

Adam just smiles, and kisses him, and it doesn’t feel like a black hole at all—it is a supernova.

When they break apart, Adam allows himself a moment to glance away from Takashi and check out the new arrivals. His eyes land on another familiar figure. “Is that—Keith?” The kid Adam remembers as being scrawny, short, and Takashi’s shadow to boot walks over, tall, strong, with a scar across his cheek but with that same troublemaker smile as ever.

“Hey, Adam,” he says.

“Keith, oh my God.” Adam crushes Keith in a fierce embrace, remembering how the last time he had seen him was the day the Garrison kicked him out.

_“He wouldn’t have wanted this for you,” Adam had said to Keith as they stood in front of the memorial for the Kerberos mission. Keith’s bag was packed and slung over his shoulder. He fixed Adam with a cold stare._

_“What he wanted doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”_

“I can’t believe how old you look! It seems like only yesterday you were this tiny pain in my ass…”

“ _Adam_ ,” Takashi reprimands gently at the same time as Keith lets out an indignant, “Hey!” Adam laughs.

“I’m only joking. Although you were pretty tiny.”

“I was a _kid_. Kids are _short_ ,” Keith retorts. Adam pats him on the head.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Shiro, _please_ make your fiancé behave.” Keith freezes for a second when he realises what he just said. He mumbles something about finding someone called Lance and then dashes off, leaving Takashi and Adam alone again.

“I guess we’re not fiancés anymore,” Takashi says quietly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to presume…”

“You didn’t presume anything,” Adam says softly. “But can we start over as boyfriends? I want to get to know you again.”

Takashi smiles, and it holds the brilliance of the sun. “You mean like dating?”

“Maybe once the hostile alien invasion has been dealt with,” Adam says, “But yeah. I am going to date the _hell_ out of you, Takashi Shirogane.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Takashi replies, reeling Adam in for another kiss neither of them can stop smiling into.

*

They don’t wait for the hostile alien invasion to be dealt with. The day after the paladins arrive, Adam sneaks a slightly stale packet of mint slice biscuits from the supply rooms and two bottles of cider from Iverson’s personal fridge to take to Takashi in his room. It’s late, so Adam is quiet as he tiptoes down the corridor and knocks on Takashi’s closed door. It opens to reveal Takashi in worn, soft-looking pyjamas and fluffy lion-shaped slippers.

“Nice shoes,” Adam says as he steps inside, laughing quietly when Takashi gives him a shove.

“What is this?” Takashi says when he switches the light on to find Adam sitting cross-legged on the bed with his spoils laid out before him.

“I’m dating the _hell_ out of you, Takashi, or did you forget already?”

He laughs. “I didn’t forget.”

Takashi joins Adam on the bed and together they eat and drink in silence for a while. The mint slices are a bit hard on the teeth, but they’re Takashi’s favourite and he eats more than half the packet before apologising and leaving some for Adam.

When the mess is cleared away they shift positions, sitting side-by-side with their backs against the wall the bed’s pushed against. Takashi’s left side is pressed up against Adam’s right, allowing them to gently link hands. Adam raises their hands and presses a kiss to Takashi’s knuckles. “Sam… told me a lot about what happened with you,” he starts hesitantly. “But I know more happened after he left and besides, I’d like to hear it from you. Only when you’re ready, though—it doesn’t have to be tonight.”

Takashi sighs, small and sad. “It’s okay,” he says. “I want to tell you. Tonight is as good a night as ever.” He leans so his head is resting on Adam’s shoulder. “I suppose Sam started with the gladiator matches…”

Adam is quiet throughout. At times when the story gets particularly hard to tell—Adam can barely listen to Takashi’s description of dying, let alone imagine that actually happening to him—Takashi squeezes Adam’s hand that he’s still holding, and Adam will lift it up and press his lips to those knuckles once more, letting them linger as long as Takashi needs them to.

Adam kisses Takashi’s knuckles a lot, that night.

When Takashi is finally finished it’s nearing one in the morning, and Adam is loath to leave him here alone in favour of his own bedroom. “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks softly, and gets a nod in response. They climb into bed together, Takashi curled up into Adam’s chest, and it’s the safest Adam has felt in a long, long time. He leans forward to kiss Takashi on the forehead, on his nose over the scar Takashi said he had no memory of getting, and finally on the lips, where Adam presses half a dozen gentle kisses as Takashi’s face becomes wet with tears.

“I love you,” he says, loud for the quiet space they’re in but needing Takashi to hear it down deep in his bones. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And despite the late night, despite the looming threat of the Galra quite literally above their heads, Adam sleeps better than he has in the last five years.

*

The stalemate can’t last, and when the Zyforge cannons are discovered, the Garrison plans a last ditch effort to defeat the Galra once and for all. The paladins—Keith, Katie Holt, the space princess Allura who Adam had taken an immediate liking to, and the two other Garrison cadets Lance and Hunk—and the MFE cadets are to each take on a cannon base and neutralise the weapon before it can launch. It may be selfish of Adam, but he’s glad Takashi isn’t a paladin anymore. Adam knows Takashi can take care of himself—especially with the new arm Allura helped design for him—but it’s one thing to know that, and another entirely to put it into practice. For now, Takashi remains at the Garrison with Adam, and for now that’s enough.

It doesn’t stop him from worrying about the paladins though.

The mission immediately goes belly-up. Lance’s comm blacks out for several heart-stopping moments, but even when he’s back online in Red with the other paladins in their lions, it’s clear they don’t stand a chance against a coordinated Galra defence.

“How the hell did they know we were coming?” Takashi asks furiously, witnessing the chaos unfold and clearly frustrated at being unable to help. Adam suddenly remembers Admiral Sanda’s argument for cooperating with Sendak, and scans the command centre to confirm his suspicion.

“It’s Sanda,” he tells Takashi. “She wanted to give the lions to Sendak in return for sparing Earth.”

“Sendak doesn’t make deals,” Takashi bites out. He had told Adam all about the Galran commander that night in his room—if Adam could find this Sendak and kill him then and there for every hurt, every torture he inflicted upon Takashi, he would in a heartbeat. If he could have prevented it from ever happening to him, he would’ve. He remembers his own words to Sam on the Garrison rooftop: _I would leave the universe defenceless and the Galra undefeated if it meant saving Takashi from everything he’s gone through._ Sam had said that made him human.

If this is what being human feels like, Adam wishes he were anything but.

They lose contact with the lions the second the Zyforge cannons fire their beams. Takashi slams his hands against the computer dashboard, making the metal rattle. The other Alteans, Coran and Romelle, are watching the silent, blacked out screen of the monitor in horror. Adam knows how they feel. It’s how he felt when he learned about the Kerberos mission. But Takashi hadn’t died then—and the paladins can’t be dead now.   

Adam steps forward and places a gentle hand on Takashi’s right shoulder. “They’re alive. But they’re going to need our help to get out of this. Are you with me?”

Takashi stares blankly at the screen for another long moment, then closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and steels his expression as he turns to Adam. He reaches up to lay his prosthetic hand on top of Adam’s where it’s still resting on his shoulder. “I’m with you,” he says. He turns to Sam. “We need the Atlas up and running. It’s the only thing that can provide Voltron with enough support to get them out of this. It’s the only thing that stands a chance against Sendak’s battle cruiser.”

“But… we’ve never been able to get it up and running,” Sam says hesitantly. “The power that would take… I’m not sure we have anything close to it in the entire Garrison.”

“Wait!” a voice pipes up. Everyone turns to face the source—it’s Romelle, Adam recalls, one of the Alteans. “Coran, that crystal—the one the Castle of Lions left behind. It’s the compressed energy of the castle _and_ a black hole, right? Surely that energy would be more than enough.”

Coran pulls out a necklace from his collar—its pendant is a glowing, blue gem. “Of course!” he exclaims. “Romelle, you’re a genius!” He removes the crystal from its cord and hands it carefully to Sam, who stares at it in wonder.

“Let’s get her up and running,” he says, leading the way out of the command centre to the construction deck where the Atlas sits in all her glory. Inside the ship they carefully place the gem inside the valve Sam had constructed to hold a Balmeran battle class crystal—once let go it expands in a beam of blue light, sending a pulse through the ship that is echoed by her powering up. The monitors light up orange, signalling the coming online of the flight, weapons, and defence systems. Adam can’t believe it. He spent so long building this thing with Sam—he never actually thought he’d see it fly one day. It was almost like an impossible dream. He looks over to the man who is staring around at his creation like a child taking his first steps in the world. Sam meets Adam’s gaze and grins.

Takashi’s communicator buzzes as Iverson patches in from the command centre. “They’re realigning the Zyforge cannons. It looks like their beams are set to merge and fire right on our position!”

“But that will take us out completely!” Sam says, horrified. “The particle barrier won’t stand a chance!” Almost instinctively, he looks to Takashi. Adam does too. Iverson is quiet on the comm, waiting for a command.

“Clear out the Garrison,” Takashi replies after a moment. “Have everyone gather supplies and get on the Atlas. If Voltron can’t stop those cannons… we have to be ready for the worst.”

“Sir!” Iverson patches out and moments later on the loudspeaker announces Takashi’s orders. Adam moves to stand beside Takashi, then takes a deliberate step back behind his right shoulder.

“The bridge is yours, Captain,” he says. Takashi looks at him for a long second and then nods, squaring his shoulders.

“Let’s go to war,” he says.

*

 _And anyway it’s the same old story—_  
_a few people just trying,_  
_one way or another,_  
_to survive._

_Mostly, I want to be kind._

*

Shiro could cry with relief when he sees the lions back in the fight, even if that relief is quickly tempered by the discovery that it really is just the lions in the fight—their paladins remain on Sendak’s cruiser, linking telepathically with their lions at a level Shiro never thought possible, but which he is infinitely proud of nonetheless. “We’ll give you cover while you escape—and then you _have_ to destroy those cannons or at the very least alter their course, or Earth is history.”

“Yes sir,” Keith responds, and Shiro can hear the wicked grin in his voice.

“Coran, two degrees starboard. Iverson, get those cannons charged and ready to fire.”

“Ready!”

“Fire!” The Atlas’ missiles shoot towards the battle cruiser closest to Sendak’s ship. It explodes in a flash of yellow light. The officers on the deck shout in victory. “Adam, Veronica, what’s our status?”

“Power core holding steady,” Veronica replies.

“There’s a cruiser approaching us, four o’clock—that’s not enough time for us to turn,” Adam says, panicked. Shiro sends the MFEs to deal with it and they watch, tense, as the cruiser goes down too close to the Atlas for comfort.

“Coran, get us out of this airspace. We need room to move!”

“Roger that, Shiro!”

As the Atlas makes her way to an unoccupied zone, the lions fly by once more—this time with their paladins inside them. “Welcome to the fight,” Shiro grins.

“Couldn’t ask for anywhere better to be,” Keith replies. “We’re going after those plates to deflect the cannon beams—there’s not enough time to take out all the cannons before they fire.”

“But they’ll burn up,” Sam says worriedly. “They’re only built to withstand momentary blasts, not a continuous beam and certainly not one with that much power.”

“Then we’ll have to take out Sendak himself. Coran, the bridge is yours.”

“What?” Adam races over from his station. “Takashi, what are you talking about?”

“The Atlas isn’t powerful enough to take down Sendak’s ship. The lions can buy us time with those plates but we need to take out Sendak himself. The only way is to infiltrate his ship and destroy the crystal powering it.” Shiro says all this to the ground as he pulls on his space suit, and only when he’s dressed with the helmet in his hands does he allow himself to look at Adam. “I have to do this,” he says.

“If this is some—stupid, revenge mission or something, I swear to God—”

“Adam.” Shiro reaches out with his flesh and blood hand and takes Adam’s in his own. “I have to do this,” he repeats. “Please, trust me.” He sees Adam swallow heavily.

“I’ll wait for you,” is what he says, and Shiro has to close his eyes momentarily when he realises what he’s doing.

“I want you to,” he says when he opens them again.

“I’m so mad,” Adam says.

“I know.”

“It feels like you care more about the mission than me.”

“ _Never_.”

Adam reaches out and grabs hold of Shiro’s chin, tugging him forward into a brief, firm, messy kiss. “Come back to me,” he says fiercely, and Shiro holds his gaze, unflinching.

“I will.” He slides on his helmet, steps out into the airlock, and doesn’t look back.

*

Shiro has felt a lot of pain over his lifetime, even before he went into space. When he was a child he fell from a tree and broke his arm. He thought it was the worst pain in the whole entire world. Later, at the hospital, when his mother asked why he’d been in the tree in the first place, he told her he’d been pretending to fly. She asked if flying was worth the broken arm, and he said yes. She _tut-tutted_ at him and blew a raspberry just above his belly button, making him scream.

His illness caused him pain, but it was a different kind. A long, slow ache, starting from his bones and expanding outwards to his muscles, the tissue around them, over his skin. It was bearable, most of the time. The most painful part of it was telling Adam what was wrong with him, and not being able to make him understand that going into space was worth it, that flying had always been the biggest and best part of him, and the pain would just have to wait.

The Galra spoke the language of pain. They didn’t sedate him when they sawed off his arm, and he was awake when they attached the new one. He is sure he broke bones in the gladiator arena, though he doesn’t remember it. He doesn’t remember most of his scars, either—though the one across his nose aches sometimes, and losing his sense of smell was another kind of pain entirely.

Dying was painful. No surprises there.

But when Sam accesses the Galran crystal through Shiro’s brain, the pain is indescribable, and unlike anything Shiro has felt before. He screams, but he hears it almost as if it’s from a distance, and not his own throat and vocal chords and mouth working together to make the sound. He can hear Sam yelling over the comm, and Adam too, but their words are unintelligible, and in the end he blacks out.

When he wakes, his comm is fried, but so is the crystal. He sneaks out the way he came—how he would love to face down Sendak himself, but he knows his limits, and he doesn’t want to push them any further today. What Shiro wants, however, is rarely, if ever, what he gets.

Sendak meets him on the hull of the cruiser as it sinks inexorably towards Earth. He’s at an advantage, and they both know this. Shiro is tired, and his new arm isn’t designed for combat the way the Galran prosthesis was. Sendak is furious at the failure of his plans to conquer Earth—out of the corner of his eye, Shiro can see the lions take down the last of the cannons. But Shiro is also furious. Furious that he has to defend Earth in the first place. Furious that he was tortured, maimed, killed by the Galra. Furious that he was captured from Kerberos in the first place. Furious that he was robbed of his wedding and his normal life with the man he loved, furious at the disease that coursed through his old bones and tore him and Adam apart down the middle, furious at himself for choosing the mission, for braving the pain, for ever wanting to fly in the first place.

Sendak is angry. Shiro knows anger.

When they meet, the impact rattles Shiro down to his core. They come together, again and again, dodging and lunging and swinging with a reckless, violent abandon Shiro never gave into as a paladin but which was always inside of him from his time in the gladiator ring, just waiting to come out. Shiro defeated bigger and stronger combatants in there, too—he can sure as hell defeat Sendak out here.

The cruiser gains momentum as it hurtles through Earth’s atmosphere. Shiro loses his footing, falls, but manages to hang on. The ship suddenly stabilises, tilts into a horizontal position once more—Shiro can’t see them but he bets it’s the lions—before crashing into the desert with an impact that shakes the earth. Shiro flies off the ship at the impact, activating his jetpack just in time to stop himself from smashing face first into the rock-hard sand. He stands. There is a discarded Galran blaster by his feet amidst other debris. He takes it in his flesh and blood hand.

“Sendak!” he yells. “Come and face me you coward!” The wind is blowing the sand up into a frenzied storm, but Sendak’s shadow looms larger than life through the dust. He approaches Shiro, teeth bared, his own flesh and blood arm curled close into his chest—he’s injured.

Good.

Shiro angles his body so the blaster can’t be seen. Sendak comes close, closer. Shiro lets himself fall to his knees. Closer, closer. He closes his eyes. Sendak’s shadow looms over him, making the sun go cold.

Shiro takes a breath. In, one, two. Out, three, four.

“Victory or death,” Sendak hisses, and Shiro can feel his breath hot on his face. He opens his eyes—time seems to stand still—the blaster reveals itself in Shiro’s hand, Sendak’s eyes widen but he isn’t fast enough to react—Shiro jams it right up under his chin, meets his gaze— _this is for what you have done to me_ —and pulls the trigger.

*

“Today is a solemn day. Today we look back at the lives we lost and the sacrifices that have been made here on Earth and across the universe. There isn’t one of us here today who hasn’t experienced the tragedy of losing someone close. It truly feels like a light has gone out in our lives and the sun itself couldn’t reignite it. But that light, that fire, has not gone out completely. It is fuelled within each of us by the memories and the love of those we’ve lost. And now we must move forward in their names, and shine that light onto a new path for future generations. Today is a solemn day, but it is also a day of hope. Earth is now stronger than ever, and it stands as a beacon of light to help guide those fighting against tyranny and oppression. From here, we will spread peace, and together we will hold strong as the defenders of the universe.”

*

“Good speech,” Adam says as Shiro walks off the stage with shaky legs. “Maybe a little heavy handed on the light metaphor, though.”

“If you were listening you would know it was a simile,” Shiro says, trying to scowl but unable to keep the smile from his face. “And it’s not like you volunteered to give it.”

“Even if I had, you really think they would’ve wanted me? You’re the hero, dude.”

Shiro wrinkles his nose. “Don’t call me dude, Adam, that’s just weird.”

“Oh yeah? Well what about babe? Or sugar? Or honey? Or—”

“Are you thinking of pet names or are you just hungry?”

Adam laughs. He takes Shiro’s hand as they make their way through the crowd towards the Garrison, where the paladins are resting up in the med bay after being blasted by the Zyforge cannons. It’s really where Shiro should be too, after his fight with Sendak—but Adam’s right, he _is_ the most public face of the war, and the Garrison command were determined to put on a strong show of arms and camaraderie for the rest of the world, and they were determined for Shiro to be a part of it.

“So what now?” Adam asks. “Stay here and help defend the universe?”

“The Galra are still out there,” Shiro admits with a sigh. “And no-one has seen Haggar for years. She’s an enemy we can’t risk forgetting about. But once they’re dealt with…”

“Can we get normal jobs?” Adam says with a laugh. “Or I’ll even settle for a normal house. If I have to spend the rest of my life in those Garrison dorms, I swear to God.”

“What about a wedding?” The words are out of Shiro’s mouth before he can think about them. Adam turns to stare at him, mouth slack with surprise but gaze soft.

“Is this a proposal, Takashi?”

“Is this you saying yes?”

Adam just smiles, and the sight of it is enough to fill Shiro up with such warmth and happiness he feels like he could burst. Adam leans into Shiro so close their noses brush, their lips only millimetres apart. “Why don’t you find out?” he asks, but Shiro is too busy kissing him to answer.

*

 _And look! look! look! I think those little fish_  
_better wake up and dash themselves away_  
_from the hopeless future that is_  
_bulging toward them._

_And probably,_  
_if they don’t waste time_  
_looking for an easier world,_

_they can do it._

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> things i changed:
> 
> \- romelle has a bigger role because wtf happened to her when they got to earth?  
> \- shiro gets to kill his abuser because fuck you voltron writers that's what  
> \- i didn’t like the last episode with that weird altean robot vs the atlas thing so it doesn’t exist here ur welcome  
> \- probably some other stuff i can't remember

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [THE ADAM/SHIRO REUNION WE DESERVED](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638226) by [ChpNinjaChick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChpNinjaChick/pseuds/ChpNinjaChick)




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